


Abattoir Boy

by SashaDistan



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Blow Jobs, Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Flirting, Floor Sex, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Inspired by Twitter, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious, farming, thirst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21588022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SashaDistan/pseuds/SashaDistan
Summary: As Will laments being the only gay guy he knows in farming, he meets a really hot young man who works at his local abattoir. Recent heartbreak and a cute dog conspire to get the pair of them on the same page.
Relationships: Will/Adrian
Comments: 11
Kudos: 18





	Abattoir Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheRedPalaaladin (Thighz)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thighz/gifts).



Taking the pig to the abattoir is more stressful than Will would like, because it has been raining overnight  so the ground is a swamp  now , and Pakak the dog keeps trying to help – which apparently requires him to bark whenever the flashlight sweeps across the pen. Driving slowly, with a white knuckled grip,  Will makes it to the abattoir on time to drop off the pig. It starts raining again and Will tries twice to reverse the trailer until, feeling less than competent, he stands in the rain and watches as a  _proper_ farmer does it for him.

The woman in the office is sweet about it.

"Don't worry honey, everyone screws up at first. You just need more practice."

Pakak sits with his head out the window, getting fussed by each person who comes past whilst Will waits for a bucket of blood. The request has earned him odd looks. But then, Will is used to odd looks from farmers and countrymen alike. 

_Which is what you get for going to art school in the city,_ he thinks as a posse of farm lads walk by, their conversation dense with the kind of agricultural jargon learned over years of helping out as kids. _I'm never going to be like them._

James the stockman is all smiles, hands over his bucket of blood, and Will returns to his truck, wondering if everyone  would still be friendly if they knew he was driving home to wake the man who shares his bed.

Black pudding creation goes badly, but it turns out that Pakak is far better at helping clean the kitchen than he is at assisting loading pigs. Getting all the blood off himself takes Will three showers, and one shirt is irrevocably ruined.

*

Two days later he is back at the abattoir to collect his pig, driving easier without the trailer, thinking of the kitchen he has cleaned, the knives ready sharpened – the new one is the length of his forearm and very satisfying to hold – and the instructions pinned to the wall.

Will tries not to think of the argument he had last night, the disappointment in his lover's voice, and the cold shoulder presented to him in bed. At least Pakak is always on his side.

The woman in the office takes his money and hands him the paperwork from the pig. 

"Adrian is around here somewhere, he'll get your pig." 

Will nods distractedly, already reading the finished weight of the pig, and checking in via his phone with his butchery friends for their verdict. He knows he'll have to take plenty of pictures, so the little farming community he's joined on Twitter can pass judgment on the condition of the meat and the amount of fat. He is nervous, because it’s the first time, but excited as he backs the truck up to the rolling metal shutters.

Will opens the door, and a young man in white and bloody overalls strides past with a determined expression. 

"Adrian?" 

"Uh-huh?" He stops walking. 

Will is suddenly grateful that the weather is damp, and that he is still wearing his coat, because the sight of the young man does something obvious and predictable to his anatomy. 

"You here for the pig?" 

Will nods mutely. 

_Could I be any more fucking awkward?_

"You're the last one. Hang on."

Adrian hauls up the roller door to reveal a long line hung with dark sides of beef, and on a separate rack, Will's single pig, looking tiny by comparison, split into two halves. 

_How is he even old enough to work here?_

The thought is derailed as Adrian takes half the pig and tosses it into the back of the truck as though it weighs no more than a small sack of onions. Will gapes. He is  _so_ strong. The second half follows without any obvious effort. 

"All good?"

Will pauses, temptation and a dozen questions on his lips. Adrian is young, beautiful, incredibly strong.

_Did I mention beautiful?_

And then Will remembers he is probably a decade older than the young man in the white apron, and in a relationship he can  hopefully  fix.

"Yeah. Thanks." The easy, open smile Will was about to offer the boy dies before it makes it to his lips, because that smile has got him into trouble in the farming world before. The countryside isn't like art school was, and Will has learned not to assume that every aspect of his personality will be welcome.

*

Butchery goes well. 

Will ends up with pork grease smeared across his phone, cuts his hand on the end of a sawn off spine, and narrowly avoids slicing off a finger with the boning knife. Pakak gets discarded h-bones and femurs, and everyone approves of the pictures on Twitter.

Ten days later, just as the bacon is beginning to air dry in the fridge, Will loses an argument which has been brewing for a year or so, and watches the man he thought he was going to spend forever with drive away. Derek takes everything in the house which he paid for, including the bed.

That week Will sits on the floor with Pakak to eat his first ever home cured bacon, because he owns no furniture, and the dog eyes his plate like he's in love.

The following month, it is the turn of pig number two.

*

"In for another one?" James the stockman beams as Will lets the ramp of the trailer down. It is sunny and warm enough for shirts and fleece gilets, and Will has reversed his trailer all by himself. "Practice makes perfect, eh?"

_Heartbreak does wonders for focusing the mind._

Will smiles, but says nothing as they herd the snuffling ginger pig across the concrete, towards the pens where she'll wait, snorting happily, until slaughter time. Slap mark applied, James folds his arms on the top rail.

“You waiting around for the blood again?"

"Yes please. It can't go as badly as it went last time." Will regales him with a trimmed down version of the black pudding disaster, and James laughs good naturedly.

"Don't sweat it, you'll get there."

"If it works, I'll bring you some." 

Will tries not to think about the fact there is no one to cook for now, and that there will be no pork barbecue feasts in the back garden this summer. Derek took both the furniture and their friends,  and Will  got the house, the dog, and the smallholding.  He wishes he felt like he fit in somewhere. Other farmers see him as a weird interloper, not harmful, but not one of them. His liberal art school friends were already well on their way to not understanding his life choices when everything with Derek went up in flames.

_And pigs are fun, but they're not friends._

"See," James beams, blissfully unaware of Will's internal misery, “ t hat's why you're one of my  favourite customers."

"You say that to everyone." 

Will freezes at the words, suddenly sharply aware of how long it's been since he's had sex. He turns, heart pounding in his ears like a rock-track turned up to eleven, and the abattoir boy grins like the sun shines out of his side. His white apron is smeared with pink, his  biceps bulge under  the cuff of  his turned up sleeves. 

"You got something for me?"

"Uh.…"

"You can give Adrian the bucket," James prompts, sweetly – straightly – oblivious to the fact Will’s libido has woken up and given him an instant erection.

Mute, Will holds out the freshly cleaned container which once-upon-a-time held chicken manure pellets, because it's the only thing with a secure lid that he owns, and Adrian does break eye contact as he takes it.

"You got that cute dog with you again?"

"Huh?"  _Sooo articulate. No one's ever going to believe you_ _have_ _a degree, oh monosyllabic one._

"He wanted that pig last time, eh?" Adrian walks backward past the trailer to the cab window where Pakak is all too happy to greet him, long nose pressing into his palm.

The old adage about dogs and their owners being similar rings true: skinny but strong, long in the leg, big brown eyes, and Will and Pakak both love quickly and with deep affection.

_We're both bad at getting our hearts broken._

"Bet you got some good bits, didn't you pup?" Abattoir boy glances through the cab window at Will on the other side. "No one could say no to those eyes." He's still smiling broadly, Will thinks he might faint if his blood doesn't come back to his brain soon. "I'll be right back."

Will pulls away from the loading bay, allowing another farmer access with his, much larger, livestock trailer. It’s sign written  with the name of the farm along the side , looks professional, and he handles it like it's second nature. It probably is. He nods to Will as they pass, and Will curses his broken gaydar silently. 

He sits on the tailgate with Pakak, a familiar spot since the day he bought the truck three years previously, and stares across at the black and white cattle in the field without seeing them. Now,  after many years of hanging around at agricultural shows , he knows they are Belted Galloways, good native beef animals, and understands why they were chosen for this ground and this style of farming outdoors in all weathers. There are so many things Will knows now that a decade ago finishing his degree he didn't ever consider. Farming isn't like art college, and passing for straight is  both  a blessing, and a curse. Will has met so many big men with rough hands, easy smiles, and ready jokes. And not one of them has knowingly met a gay person before in their lives.  And  certainly not whilst standing in a field in work boots. Will knows no one suspects him. But he can't wait for his boyfriend to turn up and quietly out him as the ‘gay guy who's taken and therefore safe  to be around ’ any more, because there is no boyfriend any more.  A nd he can't think of a single way to ask anyone, least of all built-as-fuck abattoir boy, about their sexual leanings without risking everything.

"And what would I talk to him about anyway?" Will is so grateful for Pakak's soft ears and cold wet nose, because at least he doesn't spend most evenings  _literally_ talking to himself. "He's barely past being a teenager...yes thank you I do feel old. He’s not gonna have anything to say to me."

For a moment, there's nothing but the sun, the soft noises of the cows, the silky texture of Pakak's fur under his fingers, the hard edge of the tailgate digging into the backs of his knees. Then there is a shout, and Will can look nowhere else  but the source of that voice .

"Hey!" Adrian is coming across the yard, white apron newly bloodied with the dying pulses of Will's pig, bucket held in one hand carelessly, like it doesn't weigh fifteen kilos, his smile bright like the sun.

_Fuck, he's beautiful._

"Here." Adrian lifts the sealed bucket into the bed of the truck, strapping it in automatically with a length of orange bal ing twine. Pakak is instantly interested, Adrian ruffles his fur. "You coming back Wednesday to collect the pig, right?"

"Yes." The twist of hope and happiness makes Will elated and flushed, heart hammering painfully against his ribs, even as he tells himself he is surely reading normal friendliness as something else. Adrian is still smiling like the sun. Pakak clearly adores him.

"Good. I'll be here."

*

Later, pressure washing the trailer, Will grabs his phone and hits up his friend the butcher with a DM on Twitter. He's not gay, but like most of the rest of the community Will has found online, he's also not judge mental.

<Hey, I need advice>

The reply is fast, and Will wonders how the man can tweet with one hand and slice chops with the other.

<Shoot. Is this a sausage question, or something else? :) >

_Oh the master of innuendo._

<Something else> Will replies

<Something happen with #abattoirboy?>

Will groans, because even the fact his friend has taken two incredibly brief encounters and turned them into a hashtag already is so similar to his own over-keen emotions. 

<Not exactly>

<Could you be less cryptic?>

<Fine. He just... smiled. Fuck, I swear it didn't used to be this complicated.>

<You were younger then>

<Oh thanks! Anyway, it seemed like he was looking forward to me coming back on Wednesday>

<And is he gay?> t he butcher asks.

<No idea>

<You're hopeless, man> The butcher sends a selection of double entendres in the form of emojis <Maybe he's just in love with your dog. That's happened before>

Will groans aloud.

<Don't remind me!>

*

Black pudding round two goes better than the first time, right up until the point where Will takes the cooked loaves of blood, fat, and oats from the oven, goes to have a shower, and returns to three empty loaf tins and a very guilty looking Pakak.

Three am finds him standing in the garden, shivering in t-shirt and boxers, whilst Pakak is sick on the grass.

"Worth it, was it?" 

The dog has the good grace to look guilty. Afterwards, Pakak gets shut in the kitchen with a bowl of fresh water and Will returns to bed.

Bed is cold. The bed has been cold since he bought it, and it seems especially big and lonely without Pakak stretched across the covers. Will is about as good at sleeping alone as he is at making black pudding, which is to say he puts in effort in good faith, but sleep doesn't come. Automatically, Will reaches for his phone, even though he knows screens in the middle of the night are bad for you, and there is a late DM from his butcher friend. 

<You've nothing to lose my friend, go for it. The abattoir aren't going to turn you away for being gay or hitting on the kid. Just make sure you ask the chap before you stick your tongue down his throat.>

Will snorts, because even when he was young, free, and single he would never have been brave enough to do that to a guy that pretty.

_Fuck, he'd probably hit me if he knew I thought of him as 'pretty'._

There is a last message.

<And I want all the details. No getting shy on us now ;P >

_Technically I’m still free and single. And most people don't think thirty is actually old… do they?_ But Will hasn't dated anyone in seven years, and didn't think he was ever going to need those skills again.  _Shite, how does flirting go again?_

*

For  two days, all he thinks of is Adrian's bright smile and the tantalising but unlikely possibility of him being something other than straight.  This  gives Will random hard ons at inconvenient moments, like whilst helping his landlord sort sheep for market.

And then it's Wednesday, and he's late to the abattoir.

It should be simple:  get  up,  do  chores, ride,  and  go pick up the pig. But the remaining two sows have shorted their electric fence with the water bucket and begun digging to freedom, and the vegetable patch. Both they and Pakak try to help with repairs, and Will electrocutes himself twice.

His horse is in a terrible mood – not surprisingly as Will’s feeling stressed and rushes with him. Half way through tacking up he realises what a bad idea this is, goes back to grooming softly, and ends up walking his for legged friend back out to the field with a  gentle smile, the whole process of calming having taken longer than riding would have.

And then he realises how late it's become. He has to go home and change, because everything he's wearing is covered in mud and red horse hair, and by the time he arrives at the abattoir all he can think is that Adrian will assume he's avoiding him on purpose.

_He won't,_ he tells himself sternly,  _Boy won't have thought of you all week._

Feeling morose, he goes to pay his bill.

"You're the last one again."

"Sorry."

"One of the lads will help you."

No mention of Adrian, not a good sign. He's too late.

The roller door opens as he's still pulling into position, but the man in the overalls isn't Adrian. Will wonders if his butcher friend will care for the details of his colossal fuck up, then feels guilty, because Will knows he'll be full of sympathy for heartache

_Not everyone you meet online is a dick,_ he reflects.  _But the good ones are all straight... Or_ _female_ _._

He signs for his pig in halves, goes to hand the papers back, and freezes as warm fingers brush his own. Adrian grins and passes the form to his colleague. He's wearing jeans and a button down shirt and looks  _devastatingly_ handsome. He has a clean apron rolled up under one arm. 

"You do your own butchery, right?"

Will makes some kind of affirmative noise in the back of his throat, not trusting himself to speak. 

"Cool." Adrian puts his apron through the open truck window. "I'm coming with you.”

*

Will has never been more nervous whilst driving. He hates looking in the mirror, because Pakak is busy grinning at him, tongue lolling, from the back seat. Every time they stop at a red, Adrian turns to fuss the dog and the frantic  _thwack-thwack_ of his tail reflects Will's pulse.

Adrian's surprise as they pull up outside the last house on Will's very ordinary suburban street is palpable. 

“Not what you were expecting?" Will wishes he felt as confident as he sounds. "I rent the land for the smallholding, we don't live there." His truck looks huge besides his neighbour’s hot hatchbacks.

Adrian hoists half pig onto one shoulder and turns with a grin which makes Will think of pornography. His jeans feel uncomfortably tight. 

"So, you gonna show me what to do with this thing?"

Half way through the door, Will tries to remember where he left the clothes he dumped earlier. Did he put them in the machine? Or are his boxers going to greet them in the hallway? He takes the other half of the pig  but has to use both hands  to heft it up , wondering what the neighbours think.

The kitchen is blissfully clean of discarded garments. Adrian lays down the carcass and frowns, gazing over the open plan living area. 

"Did you only just move in or something?"

"Something like that," Will replies. He hasn't even bought a new sofa, he and Pakak and the  laptop spend their evenings on a nest of blankets on the floor. "It's just me and the dog," he clarifies. "You butchered anything before?"

Adrian shrugs. 

"Pheasants, pigeon. Helped a buddy with a deer once." The sentence is so similar to how Will first started that he stares. Adrian misinterprets the look. "I'm not an idiot. I do have  _some_ experience."

Will is really hoping they’re still talking about butchery.

Adrian knows his way around a knife, obviously, and Will has spent much of the last month absorbing butchery videos until he can recite the steps in his sleep. It’s a good start, and soon they have the pig split into eight primal cuts. Will hefts a shoulder at Adrian, who takes it like it’s a paperback novel, and hands him a slim bladed knife.

“We have to bone these out.”

“Sounds fun.”

Will shivers.

_That’s not what he thinks you’re talking about. Keep your imagination to yourself._

“So how did you get into farming?”

Adrian doesn’t look up  when he speaks, just switches from watching Will to copying his movements, confident and relaxed with the knife as he cuts close to the bone, removing the tops of ribs and remaining spine. Will is fully aware that he usually talks to himself  when he works , especially when answering similar questions on Twitter, so it’s nice to have someone  to actually ask the questions out loud, and listen when he speaks .

“I always wanted to go to agricultural college, but my parents wouldn’t let me. I was _‘too academic’_ for that. I went to art school instead, got a degree, graduated into a recession…. Got lucky and sort of fell into doing design work for IT services.”

“Like apps?” Adrian’s question is typical of his age.

“More… internal network sites for multinational corporations.”

“Oh.”

Will finishes removing a shoulder blade and hands it directly to Pakak’s expectant jaws.

“Good boy, take it outside.”

The click of the dog’s paws skipping happily away with his prize seems unnervingly loud. Adrian has stopped, watching the exchange.

"He's a really smart dog," he sounds a little awed. 

"We spent a lot of time training. It was important to me he was reliable." 

It had been important to Derek that the dog didn't impact on their lives. Will thinks of all the hours of training and walking, just him and the hound, how much he enjoyed them. At the time he'd thought Derek liked having time for himself and his own hobbies. The last argument they'd had proved  Will had been wrong about that, along with so many other things. 

"I became friends with farmers through riding. Hung out, helped with the sheep… It's what I always wanted  anyway ." Will smiles to himself as he begins to roll the trimmed shoulder joint. "I still do freelance  graphical work too , so my parents aren't totally disappointed in me." 

He glances at Adrian, and the young man looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn't. Instead, he reaches past Will for the butchers twine, and Will stops breathing as Adrian's chest, thigh, and – _oh god_ –the bulge of his crotch, brush against him for a moment. Will lays down his knife, terrified he's going to stab himself through the hand because he's so tense.

But Adrian simply moves back and begins to truss up the joint he's just finished scoring. Good with knives he might be, but the boy clearly isn't adept with knots and string, and two minutes later he makes an exasperated noise. 

"Remind me how to do this again?"

Will is very proud of himself as he resists stepping too close and looping his arm around Adrian's waist. He wants to, and amount he wants to scares him a little bit. He pulls out another length of twine and demonstrates, slowly, how to tie the special butchers knot around the meat, pulling it taught. He watches whilst Adrian tries. 

"Uh huh... no-  _under_ there. That's it."

"How'd you learn to do this anyway?" Adrian asks, frowning in concentration.

"YouTube.  And it isn't much different from crochet-"

Adrian makes a noise of disbelief in his throat which is annoyingly familiar. 

" _You_ crochet ?"

"Yeah. There isn't some law against liking soft furnishings."

"Will..." Adrian's never said his name before, Will shivers involuntarily. "You don't even own a couch!"

"I used to own plenty of furniture. I’m not a student." Will protests.

Adrian smirks.

"What, you lose it in the divorce?"

Will steps back hastily, the words like a blow to the chest. He hasn’t thought this little about Derek leaving since it happened.

"Something like that…"

“ _Shit_. I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.”

Will waves the apology away with forgiveness he doesn’t really feel, but he’s not angry  _with_ Adrian. It  has been weeks since Derek drove off, months since they last had sex, or cuddled on the now removed sofa, or had a real conversation.  Will wishes he was over it.

“Crochet is good. Relaxing. I used to do blacksmithing too, but the smallholding eats time.”

“Where’d you learn that?”

“Uni. And after. You pick up a lot of skills over the years.” _Not that_ _he’s_ _had the time to have done so._

Adrian turns to look at him, thumb hooked in the front pocket of his apron, and Will tries to think of anything other than the feel of the young man’s body against hi s . It’s not like a he tried to catalogue the experience. Of course not.

“Is there anything you can’t do?”

_He is not flirting with you._

It takes all of Will’s concentration to look away, pick up the knife, and start sorting the trimmings into the tub for sausage.

_He is NOT flirting. Get your mind outta your pants._

The conversation returns to an easy truce as Adrian asks more questions. Clarifying what his next steps are. What a few short hours ago was an entire pig is no w  almost completely broken down into recognisable cuts. Adrian takes chops from the board, begins to package the meat, and the space between them is filled with the soft whirr of the vac-pac machine. Adrian applies the familiar labels – chops, rolled prime rib, cubed, pair of hocks – and Will notices he has unexpectedly florid handwriting.

“What’s this one?” Adrian’s fingers brush his _again_ at the transfer.

"Tenderloin. No, put it in the fridge. It's dinner."

"You gonna feed me?" Adrian's voice is hopeful, and Will tries not to memorize the tone. He fails. 

"Well, you have helped take apart an entire pig. Seems fair."

Will uses a trip to the freezer in the garage to grab his phone. 

<Shit!>

His butcher friend is with him immediately, blue notification light flickering.

<What happened?>

<I invited him for dinner and I have no furniture! He thinks I live like a student!>

<He's already there? A l l right!>

Will narrowly avoids shutting his phone in the freezer in panic.

<He's helping butcher the pig>

<You'll be fine. I remember you telling us all you'd gone bed shopping by yourself. Time to test it out! ;) >

Will pulls his hair in aggravated despair.

<He's not even gay!>

<And you know that for sure do you? Just ask him!>

Will stuffs his phone back in his pocket, closes the garage, and heads back to the kitchen.

_Straight guys in cities should not be allowed to give dating advice._

The kitchen is surprisingly clean, the scimitar, boning knives, and saw washed and dried, the counters wiped. Adrian is leaning with his shoulders against the fridge - a sharp and beautiful silhouette - playing with his phone.

"So, what's next?" Adrian beams, phone forgotten. 

"Get the curing salt from the top of that cupboard and we'll do the bacon."

"Bacon?" Adrian lights up. "Does that mean if I'm  _really_ good you'll feed me breakfast too?"

_Shit_ .  "Huh?"  _He did NOT just say that._

"Will?" Adrian is frowning softly, curing salt in one hand. 

"Um... bacon takes three weeks." Will feels stupid, but apparently Adrian doesn't notice his hard blush or the way he trips over his words as he explains the recipe.

_It's fine,_ Will thinks. He'll make the boy dinner and send him home, and never make this mistake again. He reaches for the last piece of belly pork, but it's not there, and suddenly his hand is wrapped around Adrian's on the counter. Adrian turns his hand over,  their  fingers hold.

"Um..." 

Adrian tugs at his hand, the smallest movement, but Will is already standing so close. Their hips bump. The boy from the abattoir grins at him, all white teeth and pink lips, and Will finally loses the battle with his self control.

The kiss is everything Will has hoped for. A moment of sweet lightness, the brush of lips and Adrian's quick inhalation, and then the boy is groaning, opening up for his tongue, arms sliding over his shoulders, every place they touch too hot and everywhere else craving for it. Will kisses him with a hunger he doesn't even try to hold back, memorizing the texture of Adrian's lips crushed against his own, the strong column of his neck,  the  skin  there  so smooth under his palm. He pulls Adrian up against his chest  with a hand on his waist and they break for air, panting.

"Hey. ..”

“And jus' when I thought I was gonna have to draw you a map..." Adrian laughs breathlessly, leaning in close for another kiss. This one is longer, slower, smoother, and Will is the one who groans as Adrian's tongue slides across his own.

Adrian's eyes are huge and dark when they break apart just far enough to look at each other and breathe. Will wonders why the back of his knees are hot, and glances down to see Pakak sitting, panting happily, tail sweeping back and forth across the floor. 

"Arghhhh.…"

"Hey there boy!" Adrian appears just as delighted to squat down and ruffle the dog as he was to keep kissing, and Will is suddenly jealous. 

"You've terrible timing bud." Will tells his dog. Pakak licks his hand. "And we're post-butchery greasy. Urk. I'm not cooking like this. Shower."

"Can I come too?" Adrian bites his lip as he grins, full of flirty self confidence. 

The possibility of the line from  _here_ to  _naked_ being so incredibly short forces Will to make a strangled noise in his throat. 

"You seriously didn't know?" Adrian asks, head on one side.

"Um... no."  _I just hoped and prayed and wished and tried not to think about you naked._

"You'd think inviting yourself over to a guy's house would be plenty obvious..." 

Pakak takes the chance of the break in conversation to turn in a circle and whine.

"You shower.”  Will reiterates. “ Uh-uh, by yourself. I've gotta take him out for a stroll." 

For several long heartbeats, Adrian looks forlorn. Will wonders when the last time was that the boy was told 'no'.

_With the way he looks, probably never._

"We both need to actually wash. That's not going to happen if we share."  Will explains. He is suddenly very glad the one thing Derek couldn't take was the plumbing, and the very excellent power shower attached to it. "Go enjoy the shower."

"There'll be more kissing after?"

"Yes, and dinner.”

*

Pakak wanders along beside him in the half-dark, sniffing deeply at the grass where a pretty girl dog has been, trotting off  in random loops  across the scrubby field that runs along behind  Will’s street. Will composes a tweet about finishing the butchering in record time with assistance. It takes no time at all for his DMs to light up. 

<How's it going?  TELL! >

<There was kissing>

The butcher is ecstatic.

<I fucking knew it! Get in there!>

<Dude, no. I'm out walking the dog. He's having a shower>

There is a long pause waiting for the next reply.

<You left hot #abattoirboy alone in your shower?>

Will frowns, whistles to Pakak, and the hound comes bouncing over for cuddles before springing away again into the undergrowth. 

<I promised him dinner>

<Well aren't you the gentleman>

<More than you anyway! :P>

<OK, OK. Important question>

<Shoot>

<Was it a good kiss?>

Will grins.

*

Adrian is standing in  Will’s bathroom wearing the kind of fitted boxers which leave  _nothing_ to the imagination, one of Will's t-shirts, and a towel across his shoulders, grinning. He turns at the noise of Pakak's claws on the hard floor and beams at Will.

"Good shower?" Will enquires in the most level voice he can manage. 

"Awesome. You're right, post-butchery showers are The Shit." Adrian moves to step past him, out of the bathroom, but Will lays a firm hand on his arm, frowning. 

"I've never said that out loud…"

Adrian winces moments before realisation dawns  fully , and Will's eyes go wide.  S uddenly  he  fee s the weight of his phone – his link to Twitter and his farming community who know  _everything_ important about him – in his pocket like it's burning through the fabric. 

"I didn't mean to!"  Adrian  exclaims .

Pakak's bark, unusual in itself, cuts across the room. Will forces himself to step back and breathe normally.

"Explain?"

"Your dog is really cute." 

"Huh?"  _That's not what_ _I_ _was expecting him to say._

"Twitter friend of mine retweeted a picture of your dog a while back, like... in the spring? With the bluebells?" Adrian runs a hand through his hair and Will tries not the be distracted by the bulge of his arm or the way his too-small t-shirt rides up his abs with the movement.

"Uh-huh."

Adrian bites his lip, decidedly nervous, then blurts everything out in a rush.

"You were talking to James, and you're cute. And then I saw  _him_ in the front of your truck and I knew I recognised him. Got my phone out to check, but by the time I found the picture you were pulling off down the driveway. And well… then I had your account open and I just had to, y'know-"

"Stalk me for the last six weeks?"

"It was an accident?"

"Uh-huh," Will fidgets and scowls, he's still greasy. "I'm having my shower now."

Adrian looks crestfallen in the worst way, and bends to scoop up his abandoned clothes. Will sighs. 

"You can go play with the dog downstairs. There's no TV."

"You're still gonna feed me?" Adrian seems genuinely shocked.

"You still hungry?" Will  counters, and  shuts the door before the boy can reply.

Post butchery showers  _are_ awesome, he's said as much before to his online friends, and normally Will would want to relax and luxuriate in water so hot it's almost punishing, but he doesn't normally have guests waiting on him. The hurt look on Adrian's face is enough to force him out again quickly.

Will tries to work out how he feels about Adrian reading his tweets as he dries his hair. If they were secrets, he wouldn't put them on the web, but he never figured on actually running into someone from social media in his real life. Adrian will know all about his farming mistakes, about teaching Pakak not to chase sheep and chickens, about him feeling inadequate for not being visibly gay in the farming world coupled with his lack of desire to have that be  _every_ conversation he ever has. And he'll know  _why_ it is Will has no furniture in the house. Then he thinks about the kiss in the kitchen, and glares at his hopeful semi. 

_He's still just a kid._ He tells himself, but it's not working: they've not run out of things to talk about all day, and his fears of being  _too old_ for Adrian are long gone.

His butcher friend's parting shot types itself out in his head along the staccato rhythm of his heartbeat. 

<He can throw a side of pork like it's nothing, don't you wanna see what he can do to you?>

Downstairs, Adrian has located two bottles of cider and the laptop, and is watching a guy in America field butcher a moose single handed whilst Pakak drapes himself across his lap, tongue lolling. The dog is already very taken with their new friend.

"Know how to make yourself at home huh?"

Adrian begins a reply which stops, strangled, part way through, and the boy hides his face in his hands. Will knows the expression well, because he'd want the earth to swallow him up too if he'd said that. 

"Sorry, what was that?" He knows he's being mean, but he figures it's a fair exchange for the accidental Twitter stalking.

"'That's what my mum always says'," Adrian even makes finger quote s  in the air as he repeats himself, face buried in Pakak's fur. "Could I be any more useless at this..." 

Will doesn't want to ask, but he does. 

"Please don't tell me you still live with your parents?"

Adrian's head snaps up, his cheeks flushed, his eyes angry. 

"You have any idea how fucking expensive it is to re nt 'round here?!" 

Now it's Will's turn to groan.  _He's a kid!_

"How old are you?"

"Twenty."

"Oh fuck…"  _Twenty, and half naked – fucking lounging – on my floor!_ Will wonders what the hell he's going to do, because there doesn't seem to be an option which doesn't end up with at least one of them leaving angry or in tears. 

"Why does it matter?"

"It _just_ does!"

Adrian's on his feet, and somewhere Will managed to let himself forget how built the young man is.

"Why?" he demands. 

"Because you're young and hot, and I'm thirty and just had my life destroyed by someone I thought I was going to be with forever! You should go be with someone your own age!" Will stops to draw breath, but Adrian's arms are sliding back over his shoulders again, fingers linking behind his head. "W-what are you doing?" 

Adrian smiles. 

"I stopped listening after you said I was hot," he purrs.

Adrian tastes very faintly of crisp cider and smells clean and familiar after his shower. The kiss is slow but firm, and just as Will remembers he was going to get the boy into more clothes and out of the house, he groans and opens for Adrian's tongue. Sweat pants and a t-shirt do little to disguise the effect Adrian has on him, and Adrian's clothes do even less. He is warm and firm against Will's chest and suddenly Will is sick of being the grown up and making himself wait. He finds Adrian's skin and strokes up his chest.

"Mmmm," Adrian practically purrs against him, pressing into his hands, then gasps as Will thumbs one nipple experimentally. "Ahh!" 

Will draws back with a smirk. 

"Sensitive, huh?" He repeats the motion, pushing fa bric up with his other hand. 

_ "Y-yeah…" _

He skims his palm down Adrian's incredibly well defined abs and presses the delightfully proportioned swell of his crotch through his boxers. Adrian's hands are still on his shoulders like he's not sure what to do, but his kisses are full of fire and a desire for  _more_ . Will breaks the kiss, and Adrian smiles in the space between them, bodies pressed together from knee to sternum. Will turns to look at Pakak.

"Bed." 

The dog obeys without hesitation, and Will drops to his knees. 

"W-what are you doing?" The quiver in Adrian’s voice is very attractive.

"Thanking you for helping with butchery," Will replies, rolling down the thin fabric of Adrian's underwear, placing a kiss on his abdomen, right above his cock. Adrian shivers, and Will discards the rest of his clothes with a pleased expression. "Fuck you're hot."

Adrian responds with half a sigh and blushes a rather attractive shade of pink as Will places a kiss on the tip of his erection, licks his lips, and begins to slide down the length. He presses his tongue hard to the slit. 

“Holy fuck!" Adrian's hand hits the wall above Will’s head, seeking balance.

Pleased, Will play s his tongue along the underside and smirks as he feels Adrian's knees buckle. He wraps a hand around each meaty thigh. To help  with balance and stability , of co urse. 

"Nghhh! Where'd you learn to do that?"

_A gentleman never tells._

"Ahhhhh! Yes! There!"

_Vocal guys are awesome._

There's nothing quite like a screamer, and Will is rather glad he lives at the end of the street and doesn't  have neighbours on this side of the house.  He dislikes having to be quiet during sex. And he always hate s having to divine what a partner wants when they don't say anything. Adrian is very responsive, and quite loud, and Will enjoys being able to focus on  _just_ pleasing him. He wraps his hand around the base of  the young man’s cock and sinks down, grateful he spent his early twenties learning to suppress his gag reflex.

"WILL!"

_I could get used to that noise._

Mere m inutes later and Adrian is actually  _clawing_ at the back of his neck and shoulders, his words indecipherable, every muscle practically vibrating as Will pushes him right up the edge of his orgasm, then sits quickly back on his heels with a grin. 

"Ahh! What?"

"That's for stalking me on Twitter." Will stands, leans in, and kisses him gently. Adrian nearly melts. "Hard and desperate is a good look on you."

"I'm not gonna be able to eat like this…"

"You'll manage." It takes all Will's self control to walk back to the kitchen.

Will slices the tenderloin vertically while the pan gets hot, flattens the meat with his knuckles and coats it in Cajun spice mix. Butter bubbles on cast iron. The kettles boils, suddenly loud, and the rice begins to simmer. He adds baby sweetcorn, edamame,  and  garlic from a jar. The sizzle of the meat in the hot pan is the perfect counterpoint to the soft sigh against his ear. Will smiles. 

"And what're you doing?" 

"Distracting you. Is it working?" 

"You're not hungry?"

Adrian sniffs, then groans.

"Is there a word for equally hungry and horny?"

"Probably in German. There's a word for everything in German." Will half turns, bringing himself back into contact with Adrian's only partially clothed self. He has at least put his boxers back on. "How'd you know about me?"

"Gaydar. I just knew."

Will wonders what that's like, to just  _know_ . Even at art school he never just knew, though it helped that the sexual tastes of sculptors and painters tend to be broad and adventurous. But he was never sure. Adrian looks like he's sure of everything when it comes to this. 

Will flips the meat, slathers it in homemade barbecue sauce – which he keeps in reused glass milk bottles in the fridge – and pushes  the pan into the oven to finish off. Adrian's hands are on his waist, just resting, and Will doesn't want to step away to ready the salad.

"Why me?"

"Have you  _seen_ you?" The words are so unexpected Will spins round, frowning. Adrian is smiling, soft and honest, his lips eminently kissable. "I know what you're gonna ask next."

"Do you now? Go on.”

"Do you know how few gay guys there are my age in the countryside?  And screw 'my age', any age! I read your feed – you went to art school and lived in the city! I went to school in the village, only other gay guy for ten miles was  two year s below me and he was super into Star Trek and stuff. H e h ad a thing for the dude with the pointy ears." 

Will frowns, but Adrian ploughs on. 

"No one else  at the abattoir , or at shows, or shoots.  No one at stock markets, or farm sales, or auctions.  T he re was a nother openly gay guy at the National Young Farmers meet up last year; we mostly played drinking games and commiserated each other on being the only  not-straight people  who own tweed that we know." He sighs. "What?"

"I was going to ask if you wanted another cider." Will deadpans, but catches Adrian before the boy can throw himself across the room in anguish. "Kidding." He strokes Adrian from jaw to hip appreciatively. "I don't mind being convenient and available.”

_No hook up with a hot guy ten years younger is going to be anything but._ He tells himself sternly.  _You've thought about 'forever' before and look where it got you._

"Will..." A kiss, just the press of lips, so simple. 

"Go get plates."

"OK."

*

Pakak comes to lie, ever hopeful, at Will's side as they sit on the floor with food and forks. Will ruffles his ears, tells him 'no', and tabs across his laptop screen to start whatever the last playlist he had on was. Circa 2006 alt-rock will have to do, but he's not playing i t on headphones whilst he paints, and it's a very different experience sitting cross-legged on the floor, knee to knee with Adrian, watching the boy eat his food. The noise he makes with the first bite is almost indecent. 

"You're a great cook."

"Thanks."

Pakak worms closer, angling  in  on their guest. 

"Uh-uh," Adrian pulls his plate close. "Not sharing." 

The hound whines. 

"Pak-" Will warns. 

"It's those big brown eyes," but Adrian is looking at Will as he speaks, "I just can't resist." 

"Oh..." 

"Can I stay? I make good pancakes."

_He's strong and hot and you've already given him blue-balls. What could possibly go wrong?_

Will nods softly. Moments later he's on his back, Adrian is hard and fucking  _sculpted_ along his front and the kiss is searing and spicy. Adrian palms him through his sweats, beaming. Adrian kisses his jaw, his throat, pulls the neck of his shirt and peppers kisses along his collarbone. Just as Will is laying hands on him, Adrian vanishes and tugs boldly on his sweats. 

"And what are you doing?" 

"Saying thank you for dinner."

In cocksucking, enthusiasm is a good substitute for practised skill,  but only  up to a point. Adrian is far from shy, his work rough hands are sure and firm and very good manipulating what he can't get in his mouth. Will knows what he likes, and doesn't expect the boy to be a mind reader.

“Mmmm... slower. _Yesss_." 

Adrian reaches for his hand, and Will is surprised when he ends up with his fingers in the young man's hair. Adrian grunts affirmatively as  Will guides him down. 

"That's good. Pull up." 

A kiss on sensitive skin. 

"More tongue."

Adrian locks his gaze as he laps at Will's cock, clearly pleased with himself. Will resists the urge to pet him, but guides him back to sucking. Adrian copies the motion Will used earlier and has him seeing stars. 

"Yes!"  _Good boy_ .

"Mmmmhmm?" 

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

Adrian practically purrs as Will  coaxes him along his length, and the vibration is almost too much. Will leans up on one elbow, watching the tousled blond hair and wondering how he got so lucky, blushing when Adrian meets his eyes. There's no lube within reach. 

_Shame._

Will tugs  Adrian up by his hair, cock popping from wet lips with a lewd noise which make them both chuckle softly. 

"C'mere."

The kiss is heightened by Adrian's body over him, groaning as Will pulls him down,  with a  hand in the small of his back. Their crotches meet, and Will chases Adrian's inhaled gasp with deeper kisses until the man is shaking above him with the effort of not simply crushing  them together . Will drags fingernails down every ridge of his abs before he takes them both in hand. Adrian moans in his ear.

Will strokes them together, taking his time, swirling fingers over their tips, tasting the flavour of them combined. Adrian gazes at him like he's never seen anything quite so erotic, and Will repeats the gesture, then paints precum on the boy's lips, still jacking them both in his  other fist.

"Will-"

"Yes. Go on." 

Adrian clenches his jaw, shoulders shaking.

_ "Will-!" _

Will grabs his jaw, kisses him hard.

"Come for me." 

"AHH!" 

Adrian manages half a syllable before he's gasping and shuddering, orgasm splattered over Will's abdomen. Will doesn't let go.

"Nnnghhhhhh!" 

"Oversensitive?" Will keeps pace, hips bucking, seeking friction. Adrian is flushed pink and sweating, hair hanging in his face, pupils blown. Will kisses him as he whimpers, nerve endings on fire. 

"Will..." Adrian pants, head falling forward. "Please…"

It's staggeringly, earth-shatteringly good, and Will bites back and snarl, growling Adrian's name between clenched teeth as his orgasm rips through him, hips pressing up tight against Adrian's perfectly sculpted abs. They collapse on the blankets, chests heaving.

_We're gonna need another shower._

Will finds himself held in Adrian's blue gaze.

"You're really beautiful,"  Will tells him honestly.

"Hehe- thanks." Adrian looks sat ed and happy. "You're  _really_ good at that."

They laze about, arms round each other, just breathing and kissing, long enough for Pakak to return from his bed. The dog sits, regards them with his head on one side. 

"Sorry." Adrian grins at the hound. "I'm gonna steal him for a bit longer OK?" 

A tail wags across the floor.

"So, you own a fully stocked kitchen and no furniture. Does that means we're sleeping on the floor?"

"Cheek!" 

Adrian uses the opportunity to grab Will's arse with one hand. 

"Yes please,”  h e quips.

"Later,” Will promises. “I own a bed. Clean sheets and everything."

Adrian is up on the balls of his feet already, then standing, totally at ease, pulling Will up with him. They kiss, it's easy. 

"And are post sex showers as good as post butchery ones?"

"Go find out." 

Adrian's face falls slightly. 

"I'll join you.  _Go_ ."

Adrian hops up the stairs, apparently returned to full vitality. _Oh to be young and have no refractory period…_ Will find his phone in his sweats. He sends a last DM to his butcher friend before turning the device off and abandoning it next to his keys. 

<#abattoirboy is staying for breakfast ;) >

Upstairs, the shower is hot, but Adrian is standing in the  bathroom  doorway with a bold grin, phone in hand. 

Will frowns, then his recent memory unspools. He sees himself with his phone, sees himself press the circle for the DM, then his eyes widen in horror as he realises the last button he pressed was the blue lozenge for 'tweet' not the arrow for 'send'.

"OH SHIT!" 

Adrian looks up, his smile enormous, already half roused, despite  still  wearing the remains of their previous orgasms on his abs. He drops the phone by the sink and yanks Will forward for a kiss as hard and fantastic as the first. 

"I get my own hashtag? Awesome!"

**Author's Note:**

> First posted as a (far too long) thread fic on Twitter, very much inspired by TheRedPalaaladin and their awesome VLD sheith story threads.
> 
> Slightly autobiographically, except that I still suck at reversing my trailer.


End file.
